


i was gonna die young (now i gotta wait for you hun)

by rowdyhomo



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhomo/pseuds/rowdyhomo
Summary: rin and izumo don't fall in love—they trip over it.(or the lesbian izumo/rin au that no one asked for but are going to get anyway)





	i was gonna die young (now i gotta wait for you hun)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sxlen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxlen/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is how it starts.

Izumo jumps as something lands on her head. The confusion startles her tears to a brief pause as she pulls it off. It takes only a moment to connect the sound of rustling fabric to the shirt in her hand. Wide red eyes glance up at the now shirtless Rin and Izumo squeaks.

“Wh-what—are you doing?!” she shrieks. Quietly.

It’s not as if the other girl is all that indecent. She’s not even wearing a normal bra which would expose far more cleavage than the sensible sports bra she wears. But, it’s Rin. A girl. Besides Paku. Shirtless. Add that on top of the embarrassment that not one, but _two_ people besides Paku have seen her nearly naked today, Izumo has to do her best to not lose her goddamn mind right then and there.

Rin shrugs, says, “You didn’ want t’ be seen, right? But ya can’t leave like that, yeah? So take that an’ go back to yer room. Everyone’s here so nobody should see ya.”

Izumo’s grip on the shirt tightens so much her knuckles whiten. She shouldn’t take this. It’s just another favor she must pay back later. She won’t—can’t—leave herself beholden to anyone. She should just get up and face the shameful music in the form of their other classmates. But. The shirt is warm from being worn all day, a comforting contrast to the cold lockers against Izumo’s back, and Rin’s smile isn’t gentle, with hidden poison, but unflinchingly brilliant.

Izumo puts on the shirt.

Somehow, as she bolts from the locker room and up to the dorm room her and Paku are sharing for the duration of study camp, it doesn’t quite taste like defeat like she thinks it should.

That night, Izumo watches Yukio check up on Paku’s wound, redoing the salve and bandages, before giving her another shot. Her hands clasp tightly together behind her, the nails breaking skin, right up until Yukio gives the all-clear. Then the tension bleeds out of Izumo all at once, leaving only her guilt to hold her up.

“Okumura is cute, huh?” Paku says as their teacher leaves, voice mild as milk.

Izumo snorts, crossing her arms as looks away. There’s really only one way for Izumo to interpret that sentence despite how carefully Paku crafted the sentence to be gender neutral for the outsider’s ear. She knows exactly which Okumura Paku is referring to.

“A _cute_ ly stupid, maybe,” she mutters dismissively.

Paku laughs, her tone sliding into sly as she points out, “You’re still wearing her shirt.”

Izumo chokes, uncrossing her arms to look down at the offending article of clothing like it betrayed her. She splutters uselessly for a moment before about-facing and strides across to her side of the room.

It is not running away, she tells herself. It’s just a tactful retreat in the face of the horror that is Paku’s insatiable matchmaking hobby.

“I forgot, s’all,” Izumo says, cursing her almost-not-quite stutter on the first syllable. There’s no hope in hoping Paku didn’t notice. That girl notices everything. Izumo’s fingers grab the hem of Rin’s shirt before she tugs it up and off, tossing it carelessly behind her. She yanks open the zipper of her bag a bit more forcefully while searching for a night shirt. “I was busy bein’ worried about you.”

Paku hums that hum that says Izumo isn’t fooling anyone, least of all her, but she doesn’t press any further.

“Is that why you’re looking so sad?” asks the brunette, instead.

Izumo’s shoulders hunch, then slump, her fists clenching on her nightshirt. She takes a shuddering breath as she slips into the shirt. Moving back towards Paku, Izumo kneels at her bedside. Red drops away from brown, Izumo unable to hold the weight of what is sure to be Paku’s judging gaze.

“‘M…sorry,” Izumo forces out before the guilt chokes her. Her pride nearly does the same in the effort to grit those words out, but she doesn’t care. She has no use for her pride if Paku is not there with her. “If…I were a better person…”

 “Don’t say that!” cries Paku, a hand reaching out to Izumo. Startled, Izumo reaches back, holding her friend’s hand between her own. Almost furious brown eyes burn into her. “Listen, Izumo, we’re still going to be friends. Yes, I’m leaving the cram school, but I am not leaving _you_. Understand? You’re stuck with me.”

When Izumo makes to draw a hand away, Paku makes a protesting noise. The brunette hefts herself up and grasps both of Izumo’s hands firmly. Paku rubs her thumbs soothingly across back of them, knowing it distracted Izumo from the urge to bite them when her feelings overwhelmed her.

Izumo doesn’t look at her, staring at her hands shaking in Paku’s weak grip, and starts, “But Moriyama—”

“But, nothing,” interrupts Paku. She squeezes Izumo’s hands gently. “Besides, you’ve already learned from that, haven’t you?”

The constipated look that crosses Izumo’s face isn’t agreement, but Paku doubts she’ll be quite as rude to Shiemi as before, at least.

“But—”

“Izumo,” says Paku firmly. Paku waits, beatific smile on her face, until Izumo meets her eyes before continuing. “I like you just the way you are.”

Tears well up in Izumo’s eyes and Paku doesn’t begrudge her privacy, allowing the other girl to pull away and turn her back to her. Paku rubs small circle on Izumo’s back, comforting nonetheless, and doesn’t comment.

The brunette doesn’t comment, either, when Izumo sneaks off early in the morning to wash Rin’s shirt. Simply raises a knowing brow at her. Izumo’s cheeks burn. She can’t even claim she’s doing it altruistically like any normal person because Izumo doesn’t _do_ ‘nice’.

“It’s smelly!” she all but shouts before rushing from the room.

Paku sighs after her.

That sigh follows her down to the laundry mat and back up the stairs where Izumo gathers her morning toiletries before making her way back down to the commons sink where Rin happens to be. Paku’s sigh echoes in her ears, painting them red. Stupid Paku, this means nothing. Nothing at all! It’s just Izumo…paying Rin back.

A garbled sound that in some universe might be a greeting, comes from Rin’s toothbrush and paste filled mouth. Izumo returns it uncertainly. Arranging her items on the counter, Izumo stares at the running water of the faucet, her hands gripping the edge of the sink. Beside her, Rin returns to her brushing. Not ignoring but not looking at Izumo, either.

It makes it easier, somehow, for Izumo to breathe in and say, “Listen…you saved me and Paku, yesterday, so I’m…I’m thankful, okay? So, _here_.”

Izumo thrusts the shirt Rin offered her yesterday right into the girl’s face.

Rin squawks, fumbling to grab it, annoyance written across her face. Annoyance shifts to surprise, then happiness, as the half-demon’s nose twitches catching the scent of laundry detergent.

Izumo misses all of this, having turned away the moment she’d handed off the shirt. She crosses her arms and adds, “An’ don’t tell anyone you saw me cryin’ yesterday, okay!”

“You washed it!?”

“H-how?!” shrieks Izumo, whipping around to look back at Rin, whose face lights up with unabashed glee. It’s the sort of look Shiemi had given Izumo when she’d falsely claimed the two of them could be friends. It makes Izumo’s stomach clench and her hackles rise. Thus, the first thing to come rushing from her mouth is a venomous, “I only washed it ‘cause it was gross an’ dirty!”

After an appropriate noise of indignation, Rin _laughs_.

Izumo stares, the hostility rising in her slapped into submission by sheer shock. That’s not the usual reaction to her vitriol. Usually, people bristle and spit back. Not…not laugh, as if it were a joke. Izumo stares some more as the girl comes down from her laughing high, grin wide with teeth.

Then stares some more, stock still, when Rin grasps Izumo’s hands—gently, she can pull away, she _should_ pull away—and says with brutal earnestness, “Thank you, Izumo! I think I see what Shiemi means about you.”

Blinking rapidly, Izumo steps back and Rin lets her hands fall, but her smile remains.

“You guys talk about me?” Izumo asks, once she has enough air in her lungs, tone incredulous.

She ignores the small stab of guilt that spikes in at the mention of Moriyama’s name. It’s not _her_ fault that girl is so impossibly naïve. If it weren’t Izumo, it would be someone else. Someone a lot crueler than Izumo ever is.

Rin bobs her head, returning to brushing her teeth.

“’Course, we’re friends, after all.”

Izumo wonders if Rin knows how much that unspoken ‘unlike you’ stabs her right in the chest and sucks all the air from her. Then, she wonders if the unspoken words are even present at all. It’s instinctual, to read between the lines and find the hidden mockery, the hidden traps, to watch out for danger. But, Rin is as straightforward as they come. If Rin feels it, she says it.

So, why _isn’t_ she?

"Just, promise not to tell anyone about the crying, okay?" Izumo says finally, past the dryness of her throat.

Rin garbles something like agreement and Izumo lets the matter drop. If Izumo's hands tremble the whole time she prepares for the day, the urge to bite them pushing at her like a burning need, well, that's her business.

If Rin notices, she says nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> i actually sort of have a plan for this story but yeah this is also totally shameless self indulgence. this is for my lovely muse, selen <3


End file.
